Obsession
by once-there-was-a-dragon
Summary: It was every Sunday afternoon, 2 a clock sharp, that a boy in black, with faded novels under is left arm and earphones firmly plugged in his ears would lazily stroll pass Will's window heading for the library across the street. But this boy was different from everyone else for Will. Because it was this boy that Will was obsessed with.
1. A Boy From A Far

**A/N: Hey there! Firstly Thank-you for clicking on this story! And here's your cookie (::). Secondly this is a Nico/Will fanfiction but there isn't any Solangelo. Sorry guys =( This is more of a really random idea that turned into a short one-shot... ahaha... famous last words... Anyways, I hope it isn't too bad! Enjoy!**

***Update! I've improved some of my bad grammar; hopefully this is more understandable now… (Oh goodness…) I should also point out that the characters used are probably quite OCC; (and so is this story.) And lastly the 'no Solangelo' part doesn't exactly apply anymore but, due to expanding this from a one-shot to something more, I feel that my aim is slight Solangelo but not entirely relationship standard. (Does that make sense?)**

**DISCLAIMER!: I don't own PJO/HOO/characters and so on.**

~Obsession~

It was two a clock on a sunny afternoon in July when a certain figure crossed the road to visit the library. He wore rather unusual clothes for the time of year, black from head to toe regardless of the intense heat of the beating sun that shone down on him. His pale, almost white skin didn't seem to be affected by the glaring sun that made the whole street shimmer as it burnt the landscape. The figure though, remain completely oblivious to the world around him as he lazily strolled towards the battered doors of the old brick building that was the library. Though it may appear strange for such a person to be heading this way in the heat of day it though was very much a common occurrence for the teenager to come here; faded novels under his left arm and earphones firmly plugged in his ears on a Sunday afternoon.

Though in order to have noticed this, one must have been watching. From distance of course, but watching ever so closely on a Sunday afternoon as the figure would pass right by the window of the house that another boy would stare from so intensely. Yet it was so many Sundays ago that this strange figure began passing by that now looking and waiting with anticipation on a Sunday afternoon for this figure became more of an obsession. But this boy that would watch even found it hard to believe that someone could trip endless in love, with a crush so bad that it would keep you awake all night long, just by staring from a distance every Sunday afternoon, two a clock sharp, with faded novels under his left arm and his earphones plugged in his ears. Yet, in way not even he understood, not Will Solace, who in every possible way was the opposite of this dreary character, had tripped into love with this figure.

Why tripped? Because to fall in love would be too graceful.

It was one particular Sunday afternoon in July though, when the boy in black came lazily strolling past, that it appeared as though time slowed down for him; just for Will Solace was waiting eagerly for him hidden behind the windows' curtains. The boy around his age of 16, it appeared, had oddly looked similar to the very first day Will had seen him pass by; longish raven black hair covering his dark chocolate brown eyes. And wearing that avatar jacket. Too big for him yet he still wore it; it only worsens poor Will's problem of affection for him. That day he was even wearing the same beaten up shoes, with the untied laces, covered with dirt from him seemingly never bothering to tie them up. But it appeared he didn't care as he strolled on pass, at a distance, heading for the library doors.

But Will wondered what it would be like to brush away those lose strands of hair that fell across the boy's face and what his voice would sound like; probably heavenly like he imagine in the dead of night so often. And his name. What name would his nameless angel possess? But no, this was not merely a pointless crush. Gods no; for if it were then he would be easy to forget and move on to find someone who he could control and own. This nameless boy was his obsession, his life. But with an obsession comes the sleepless nights wondering what it would be like to scream his name out in pleasure. To own this boy.

But the boy continued walking. Just like every Sunday afternoon. Toward the battered library doors with faded novels under his left arm and his earphones firmly plugged in. But he continued to stare on endlessly; though he knew inside it was hopeless. He would stare until he reached the battered doors of the library and let out a small sigh as he knew that he would lose sight of this boy for many hours now. But just as he was about to enter the battered blue doors of the old brick library he turned. He never turned before. The boy in black, his fallen angel, he looked straight into Will Solaces' eyes. And smiled. A smile that he would never forget even when he aged old with the years. Then he turned around once again as disappeared back into the world of fiction as though he knew all along that Will had watched him every Sunday afternoon at 2 a clock sharp walk to the library.

So Will waited; waited with so much hoped and desire that his boy would appear once again just to smile at him like that again; his secret obsession just to notice his longings- maybe his dreams were to be more than dreams. Maybe. But until then he'll wait for this figure to appear and slowly stroll home in the dying light of the day with new novels under his left arm and his earphones around his neck.

And what a long wait that shall be.

**I told you it was random. Or maybe slightly weird...? Thoughts? All reviews appreciated! **

**~once-there-was-a-dragon**


	2. A Boy Right Next To

**A/N: Oh goodness, I'm back again with more weirdness... To be honest, I was going to make this into a short one-shot but it appears you guys want more; so I'll attempt to do so. And oh, to what I stated on my previous A/N note about no Solangelo; I feel that is to change… them famous last words right? (And by the way, I've changed my username! (Just to stop any confusion!))**

**Anyways now, enjoy! ^-^**

**DISCLAIMER!: I don't own PJO/HOO/characters and so on.**

~Obsession~

A whole week. A whole week had past seen Will Solace last seen his boy in black. And oh dear; couldn't that week have gone any faster? Every day would drag on; wake up, school, home, dinner, bed. And every spare moment Will would become lost in his thoughts of _that_ boy. _That_ boy who would walk past his window every Sunday, two a clock sharp. How could _that_ boy, _that_ one boy, cause such disturbance in another's life? Especially when you don't even know them.

_When you don't even know them. _How ironic. Will could tell every entire detail about this boy. Music taste, favourite colours, novels. He could tell his shoe size, how often he got his hair cut, that his favourite drink was coffee and any other insignificant yet personal detail about him. Apart from who he is. His name, his voice and what he's like.

Yet here Will sat, black bags under his eyes from loss of sleep, with hunger in his eyes, and crazed thoughts in his mind from a want, a need to see his boy in black

And yet here two a clock came round, counted down from seconds of frustrated on the kitchen clock wall, that would have new batteries every two and a half months, on that Sunday afternoon.

And yet, once again, for so many weeks, so _many_ weeks, that boy, dressed in black, with earphones plugged in his ears and last week's novels under his arms, came strolling by, on that Sunday afternoon.

He is an angel. Will's angel. Oh, what he would do to touch his angel. He's so close; if he reach through this dividing glass, out from his hidden lair of darkness to the daylight were he walked, he could touch him. Just one touch. Oh but one touch would also mean just another, and another, and another. But that what an obsession is. It is not anything more than a desperate hunger for something you can never have. It is a want that acts and feels like a need.

And now his is gone. Yet it was these few moments that fuel him. He's gone, disappeared into the battered library doors with novels under his left arm and his earphones firmly plugged in. And how that irritates Will. Knowing that all week his has waited for those few precious moments of desire, of desire for something untouchable to flash by. How Will's fingers curl into painful fist, how his icy blue eyes narrow with hunger as though he is a predator competing for the prey at those battered library doors. And the frustration. How it eats at him. Eating away whatever sense he has felt from is isolating trip into love. If that what 'love' is.

And he can't bare it. This frustration; how it grows, how it builds up like a lump in his throat, how it burns at his very soul. How he has to see more.

He needs _his_ angel, _his_ boy in black. Now.

Want crawls into his body, urging him to follow the need in his head fuelling lust in his heart which blinds him. Twitching fingers tap, knees knock together, feet bounce furiously. He wishes to witness that smile again. And again. And again.

And in a moment of crazed obsession; Will Solace, at twelve minutes precisely past two, on a Sunday afternoon, flees the safety of the darkness, of curtains to which he stares behind; and he goes out to fuel his obsession. And this was the second largest mistake Will ever made.

The library was rather vast. There were rows and rows of dust covered shelves that were cramped into the room, and even more books lined them. Paint had begun to peel from the walls and the rough carpet was well-worn. The place though could have been a converted church, with the windows allowing light to pour in, illuminating the place up. Fading coloured chairs, bleached from the light, were dotted around the place. And for every chair a Will Solace stare, searching.

Like a hungry wolf, with keen eyes, he stalked. Book shelves like ancient trees, and chairs like watering holes, he pursued. He hunted for a trail, a sign, anything. He jumped, scrambling behind a shelf, breathing hard in an attempt to calm his fearful thoughts and racing heartbeat.

It was a false alarm, it wasn't _that_ boy; just a person. Innocent and unaware of his mind controlling obsession.

His obsession.

Will was angered by his obsession. How could he not be? How was it fair that such a human could control him this much? And that's why Will needed him. To control what controls him. But how can you control what you cannot own?

And this was his frustration.

Moments passed, though it may as well have been hours. The person left; Will ventured out again scanning in front of him for potential threats to his mission. But this was the second largest mistake Will ever made. First was becoming obsessed with something you cannot have.

And the second? The second believing he could have something you cannot have.

"Hello at last."

And the second time that day Will's heartbeat raced, as he turned to face that boy, his boy, with shaggy hair covering his eyes and novels under his left arm, with his earphones plugged into his ears. And his eyes; his eyes that stared straight into Will lost soul as though he stood as an open book.

But it was that smirk, which sat on his face which was why it was a mistake. It was that and finally hearing the voice belonging to that boy which was why this was his second largest mistake. Because now it wasn't just an obsession; now he knew that the boy knew that he was own personal stalker.

Because now he was no longer a first class stalker, but rather more of a deer caught in the head lights.

"Hello."

**Okay. Okay. I think I've managed to make this even weirder then before. Oh dear. I feel this chapter may have been slightly better having more structure rather than being an initial random idea, so I hope this is okay? I hope to have another chapter soon! C:**

**Thanks you all for reading! (Cookies for everyone!: (::) )**


	3. A Boy Too Near

**A/N: Hey there… HUGE APOLOGIES! I honestly I'm such a bad person and I'm deeply sorry :( but I'm back! (Apologies again on how weird this fic is…)**

**Enjoy! ^-^**

**DISCLAIMER!: I don't own PJO/HOO/characters and so on.**

~Obsession~

In all the many Sundays that Will Solace had sat by his window and stared longingly out at the untouchable, he would had laughed himself to death if his future self had told him that he, the one who is obsessed with the Boy in Black, would be sitting approximately 2 foot away from him, sipping black decaf coffee, and staring directly into a pair of chocolate brown eyes; behind the battered doors of the library.

No. He certainly would not believe himself.

Yet, here he sat. Quite clearly, at fifty eight minutes past two, and not in some distorted fantasy, next to his quite real angel.

Both boys sat nestled in a dusty corner of the ancient library. The Boy in Black having purchase the naff coffee from the library clerk with a few shabby pennies, had walked quietly over to the hidden corner. And Will, with his heart racing and fingers itching to touch _his_ possession, had followed like a lamb to its mother. Ironically.

Will had sat in a yellow fading chair, half hunched with need, and the other half nerves, next to the one-who-had-owned-his-life for so long now.

Will stared, as though he were paralysed, into the others eyes. There he saw an abyss of dark chocolate; warming yet cold, full but so empty. His eyes were outlined by long, full eyelashes, and above, scruffy arched eyebrows which only elevated the Boy in Blacks amusement. Will was addicted as though he were a hard-core drug user in a room full of mountains of drugs: Regardless if he wanted it or not, he couldn't escape his fate.

He practically yearned to touch his pale skin, to the extreme of which he balled his twitching hand into a tight fist under the scratched wooden table were they sat; to stop himself from pouncing on his unknowing prey. He almost wanted to snarl at his plastered smirk, and tame his amused eyes to needing him just as much as Will needed his angel.

"I never thought, in all the years I've lived, that I would gain a stalker." The Boy in Black spoke in his practically heavenly voice, (according to Will's ears), while leaning back in the fading blue chair. He brought the paper cup to lips for a small sip of the bitter substance.

Will haunted blue glaze flickered; for a moment he felt another emotion rather than lust, need or frustration surface. But only for a moment. He took a quick gulp of the cooling coffee; ignoring the taste as though the coffee were a mere fly to lion.

The Boy in Boy studied Will for a second. Not fazed by his hunger but more curious. Curious as though he has never seen or felt such strong emotion before. Curious for he remained appearing oblivious to why the he's strange stalker held such emotion. "You know I never thought that I would ever get to meet you." He mumbled. "I thought that you would also be my personal guy-who-watches-me-from-behind-the-window."

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't talk much, do you?" He giggled softly, hiding his mouth behind his hand.

If heaven existence, Will believed he could see it. For Will soaked in the glory of it. _That_ boy who would walk past his window every Sunday, two a clock sharp, was now _this_ boy who sat here, giggling, and talking; if Will was a cat, his angel would sure be his milk which he would lap at slowly as though to bathe in the taste of it.

Or his mouse. Something that is his.

A silence past. How long it was, neither boy could have told you. The library itself made time non-existent. Time in here only existed in moments. From books that had people gripping there pages in excitement, to table tops stained with coffee cup rings from small talk over novels which were the foundations of relationships. All were memories; new and old, happy and sad. All were how time past.

"Do you read?" Will was snapped from his taunting mind to the reality he found himself faced with. The Boy in Black had picked up his newest novel and stroked the edges of the pages with his thumb causing the book to flutter.

But Will frowned. The Boy in Black had read that book. Not once, nor twice. This would be the seventh time he read that book.

"You've read that book before." Will stated. Unaware of how weird that sounded.

The Boy in Black blinked owlishly. Confused on how one, who was no more than a stranger (a stalker at the most) would know such. "Um, yes I have…" And then he huffed, an amused huff. "Gosh, you really are a stalker."

_Had been stalker_. Will growled to himself. He now was the victor.

Yet, the boy didn't see that. He didn't know that. Not yet. He would though; he would be Will prize possession.

Bony fingers stroked the tatty silver lettering. "The Bridge To Terabitha." He almost whispered. "My favourite. But it's not like anyone cares about such things." The warmth his eyes burned hollow and empty.

It was then Will felt his stomach twist. Why? He had no idea. But it felt though he was empty. A burning empty that wanted to bite him for his need to have his angel.

And as quick as his expression had turned it was gone, for the brown eyed boy gave a grin and suppressed a giggle that could have rung out like church bells. "That's kind of funny 'cause the only one who knows that now is my personal stalker."

But what did ring out was not the heavenly sound of giggles and laughter. It was the shrill sound of a phone that made Will grimace against the sound as it evaded his senses. The Boy in Black scrambled into his pocket at an alarming rate, yanking out the cellar device to answer to invaders call.

Anger and frustration began to seep into Will's bones again, corrupting him to feel hatred towards whoever dared take his Boy in Black away. The Boy in Black was his. Will's hands gripped the paper cup harder causing a small amount of cold coffee to slosh about. His glaze bore at the boy; he saw an expression of what looked like terror flash upon his features.

A growl wished to leave his throat. He stopped it.

The call ended leaving a flustered boy. "Um, I, um, I have to go." He rushed. Standing suddenly, he scrapped the plastic ends of the chair of the carpet. He looked up though, straight into Will's eyes; brown to blue, and for a moment it looked like the Boy in Black, Will's Boy in Black, knew he was his. But he didn't say. But he didn't stay.

Instead he picked up his novel which was hurriedly dropped onto the table from a moment ago, adjusted his slightly too-large jacket, and put in his earphones. "See you next week? Maybe?" He gave a tired smile.

And Will, with a mind clouded with an obsession didn't see the tiredness. And even if he did he wouldn't off known what to do with it. But he felt something. And with a nod of his head the question became answered. "Y'know, for a stalker, you're not half bad."

And a Boy in Black, with faded novels under his left arm and earphones firmly plugged in his ears on a Sunday afternoon, left.

And Will, with mind full of need and a heart full of lust and a brain full of confusion watched him go.

Till next two a clock Sunday, then.

**I'll shall start with another apology: SORRY! I hope this update is okay, and was what you were hoping for!(?) I shall also say that I've been a good(ish) person and have planned out the rest of this fic! Whoop! Now I just need to write it! Yay! Thanking you all for your patience and here's your well-deserved cookie: (::)**

**~once-there-was-a-dragon x**

**(P.s: I finished editing this at 2:47am; that's my bad excuse if any grammar errors are found…)**


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